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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951613">the only way out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisgivingTree/pseuds/MisgivingTree'>MisgivingTree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>OMORI (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1990s, Bloodplay, Broken Bones, Clothed Sex, Clothes Ripping, Dubious Consent, Guro, Inappropriate Usage Of Garden Shears, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masochism, Organ Fondling, POV Second Person, Post-Good Ending (OMORI), Service Top, Vivisection, Wet Dream, despite the tags this has a cute ending I promise, dubious medical accuracy, implied disordered eating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:49:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisgivingTree/pseuds/MisgivingTree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-canon, Sunny's mind tries to process his fight with Basil... to an unusual result. </p><p>(Please read the tags.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Basil/Sunny (OMORI)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kink Lucky Dip</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the only way out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeballboba/gifts">eyeballboba</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I tried to be vague with chest/genital descriptions; feel free to imagine either or both as trans if you'd like. Or don't if you don't like!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dreams have been different ever since you destroyed White Space. Before, you (or some version of "you") were always in control. There was a linear narrative, repeating sun-faded memories over and over again until the vivid colors of real life melted into muddied pastels. Basil was there, except for when he wasn't, and everything spread out before you in a way that was safe and comforting. Everything was fine. You were content back then, even if you were never truly happy. </p><p>For better or worse, that world is gone forever. The Truth has set you free—has set all your friends free, too. But that doesn't mean that there aren't consequences to your actions, and not just in your waking life. Every night, when you fall asleep, you no longer have control over your dreams. And, due to the past four years of your life, you sometimes have issues distinguishing your dreams from real life. </p><p>It's difficult, since your mind has twisted a new memory that you created with Basil into something more terrifying than what you believe probably <em>actually</em> happened. When you're awake, you find it hard to remember the exact sequence of events, and your dreams often attempt to fill in the gaps. </p><p>Basil's house doesn't have air conditioning. The hazy heat of June sticks to your skin as you stand in his doorway. Your skin hums in anticipation as you watch him. He's staring out the window, gazing at the moon. The garden shears in his hand snip idly. His thoughts are elsewhere. </p><p>You wonder how many times he's done this. You wonder if you'd stared at the same moon hundreds of times before as you waited for sleep to claim you. </p><p>It would be easy to turn away from him. Being with Basil often feels claustrophobic in a way that you can't find a name for; there's a current in the air that makes you feel sick to your stomach. But you can't abandon him, not now. It's time for you to save him. </p><p>You close the door. </p><p>Basil jumps and turns around, eyes wide for a moment before recognition softens his features slightly. "Ah, Sunny... it's just you. I'm glad you came. It's... it's so good to see you." The words sound strained despite the smile crossing his face. You think he must feel the same way as you do. There's so much that you have in common with him, after all. </p><p>There's a pause, since you don't know what to say. Even if you did, your tongue feels glued to the back of your dry throat. </p><p>Braver than you, Basil says it. "Look around us. You can see it now, can't you?" You've never stopped. It creeps out of the shadows, clinging to your back and swallowing Basil's lower body. "Something behind you." It watches both of you. Your clothes are soaked through with sweat. "It came to you that day... the day Mari died. When Mari fell... you couldn't have done it." His eyes are crazed, and the Something that threatens to eat him whole bares its teeth. "You're a good person, Sunny. I know you're a good person! A good person wouldn't do something like that..." </p><p>Something behind you presses against your back as you try to escape. It smells like Mari's favorite shampoo. When you turn around, Basil is so close. Basil is too close. </p><p>"Where are you going? Stop trying to leave me!" He grasps onto the front of your shirt and shakes you. The world around you rattles as he yells at you. You freeze. He sniffs and lets go of you, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to be alone... not again. You can't leave me again..." </p><p>Despite everything, you don't want to leave. Not really. You hold your head for a minute, trying to ease your vertigo, and step forward. The miasma thickens. </p><p>Basil turns around, hearing your heavy footsteps, and smiles at you. You think he's trying to look reassuring. He doesn't. "No. You wouldn't leave me. That's not like you, Sunny! It's something behind you again, isn't it?" Teeth sink into Basil's lower thigh, a trickle of blood running down his knee. He panics. "Ah! There it is now! Do you see it?" He clenches his teeth and grips onto his shears. "Stay away from Sunny!" </p><p>Blood-soaked fangs shine in the moonlight. You wonder if the saliva sticking to your own teeth makes you look just as fearsome. </p><p>"Don't worry, Sunny." Basil's voice cuts through like a ray of sun in the darkness. "I'll save you again." His voice shakes. "I'll get rid of it once and for all. Don't be scared." </p><p>Before you can register what's happening to you, Basil pins you flat on your back. The glint coming off the shears almost blinds you as Basil straddles you. He's smaller than you, and yet he feels lighter than you would have thought. "Everything is going to be okay." He smiles down at you and strokes your cheek, a hot droplet of water hitting your collarbone. "It's going to be okay." </p><p>It's only mildly surprising when he kisses you. A part of you had suspected—maybe dreamed?—that he felt that way about you. You think, maybe, that you feel the same. The burgeoning feeling within you is complicated, but you kiss him back, although you really can't relax. Something about this still feels wrong. Or maybe you aren't used to the new sensations prickling your skin. A part of you aches, craving something wordless. </p><p>"It's okay," Basil coos between kisses, "everything will be okay." You feel the curve of his shears against your lower belly and something snips. His voice has steadied, tears cooling on his cheeks. "Don't move, all right?" </p><p>This feels so familiar. Careful, guided instructions, soothing words. Maybe that's always what this was about. "What—" you start, but the end of your sentence gets cut away as Basil tears through your shirt. Despite the heat in the air, you feel your nipples pebble as your chest is freed. </p><p>"It shouldn't be that hard... probably." Basil pulls apart both sides of your shirt and traces the tip of the benign weapon down the center of your chest, past your rib cage to your bellybutton. It's cold. This feels... intimate. Like maybe this is the closest you've ever been to another living person. "I just need to get rid of it. It must be in here somewhere." He looks into your eyes. "Right?" </p><p>You bite your lip and arch your back as Basil shoves the bottom half of the shears into your belly. Basil's face distorts above you as tears bead at the sides of your eyes. If you had the energy, you would laugh at the notion that the shears felt cold a moment ago—inside of you it is all heat, cutting through flesh and muscle with a terrible, wet metallic sound. </p><p>He's reaching inside you. </p><p>"Basil!" you moan as his shears tear through your skin, blood pouring out of your stomach onto the wood floor. You can't help but watch as the metal, gleaming red, slips through you, gliding past your bellybutton to where your rib cage juts out slightly. Deliriously, you wonder if the stains will ever come out, like Mewo's footprints on...—you were happy then, right? Basil was happy. It's so far away. It's dangerously close with Basil sitting on top of you, his hips flush to yours. (It'll never be close enough.)</p><p>Basil narrows his eyes slightly, gazing down at you fondly. "That's right. I'm right here, Sunny!" With both of his hands, he grasps onto the shears and presses down with all of his might, and you feel something snap open. </p><p>You were frozen before this moment, but you feel as if you can no longer control your body. On instinct, you grip onto Basil's thighs and howl, your sternum splintering as Basil cuts you open. "I—can't—" you pant, tears blurring your vision as you cling onto Basil with everything you have. </p><p>"You don't need to," he says calmly. He puts his shears to the side and cups your cheek, smearing it with your own blood. Something is staring down at you, splattered with Basil's efforts, but Basil doesn't seem to see it anymore. Or maybe he's trying to be strong for you. You're not sure which you'd prefer. "I'll take care of everything. Just stay with me, okay?" Your heart beats rapidly, futilely trying to make up for all of the blood you're losing. </p><p>His hand feels so different than the shears when he fingers open the wound in your stomach, tenderly tracing your intestines. He's inside you. He's... really... inside...</p><p>It's only now that you realize, to your shame and horror, that you're fully aroused. The pain of being ripped open was originally too much of a distraction, but now it's the only thing that you can feel. All the blood in your body seems to pool to your groin, and you throb, ache, desperate for touch. Basil's cheeks are pink, lips slightly parted. He's being so careful with you now. "Sunny," he whispers, his voice low. "This is the only way out. You get that, right?" </p><p>Your fingernails bite into Basil's flesh, teasing at the wound Something started, as his hand moves upward. Your toes curl, your arousal cresting as Basil's fingers pry open your ribs. Pleasure coils in your lower stomach, a part of you that is untouched by Basil. Basil's eyes widen as he brushes against your heart—you can't see what he's doing, since your gaze has fixed onto his face (how could you look away from something so terrifyingly beautiful?)—but you can <em>feel him</em> so viscerally that it almost makes you sick. Your nipples tingle, begging for stimulation that you suspect will never come. <em>"Please,"</em> you mouth at him. You're not sure what you're begging for. Forgiveness? More punishment? For Basil, in all his glory and terror, to be inside you in a different way? Regardless, your hips shift, trying to relieve the pressure building inside of you. </p><p>"Anything for you." Basil lowers himself over you, blood staining his white shirt and green vest. (For a second, you think of Christmas and white wrapping paper tied with a red bow—it was all Basil's idea—and the joy and anxiety that warred in your chest when you held the violin to your chin—) </p><p>Something descends. It blocks out the rest of the world, the moon shining outside. All that's left is Basil, Something, and <em>you</em>. All you can see in the darkness is Basil's dim outline and Something's eye watching you as he gently pulls at your heart, coaxing it out of your thoracic cavity. </p><p>"Sunny," he gasps. Your heart beats in his hand. "Oh, <em>Sunny</em>." He raises it to his mouth and kisses it. "I always knew this was who you really are," he says with a wistful smile. "I always loved that about you." </p><p>You grit your teeth, desperately trying to will your hips to stay still, since all you want to do right now is rub against something until you find release. It's crude, but logical thought is rapidly exiting your mind. Still, you have enough dignity to not hump against Basil without his permission. Haven't you done enough to hurt the people you love? </p><p>As if sensing your discomfort—Basil was always frustratingly good at picking up your emotions—Basil shifts his position, moving from straddling you to hovering right above you, his left hand propping him up as his right hand squeezes your heart gently. You moan, unable to stand it any longer. Despite not being touched at all, you feel like you're teetering on the brink of orgasm. He kisses you, and the slightly sweet taste of your blood fills your mouth. Dizzy, you grasp onto his hair. It's so soft. It almost seems out of place in a situation like this. </p><p>You slide your tongue into his mouth and he whimpers, rubbing his thumb over your right ventricle. After a moment's hesitation (why over this and not... everything else that just happened?), Basil spreads your thighs with a knee and slots his knee between your legs. He must be able to feel how ready you are, since he kisses you deeper, pressing his leg against your arousal. "Mmm!" you cry, a jolt of pleasure rocketing up from your crotch and down from your heart simultaneously. Taking his overture as permission, you grind against him, angling your hips for the maximum amount of contact. </p><p>Blood seeps out of you. Basil's hand retreats back within you, attempting to place your heart back where it belongs. (It won't ever fit back the way it used to ever again. You both know this.) You should feel cold, but you're burning up, the heat inside you quickly reaching a boiling point. </p><p>"Basil," you manage between shaky gasps, smothering kisses, the taste of iron, sugar, crushed violets and sweat filling your mouth. "How... do we...?" </p><p>He shushes you with one bloodstained finger. "I told you. I'll take care of everything." His eyes look distant for a moment. "You... don't need to worry about me anymore." He smiles broadly, closing his eyes, and bites your neck. </p><p>The state of your underwear must be embarrassing at this point. Not that you expect to live to have to explain the mess to your mother—even in your dreams, you always woke before you became this injured. You're no longer sure that this is a dream, or if it's real, or if it's a memory, or what. You arch into Basil's thigh, grinding against him desperately. </p><p>"You close, Sunny?" Basil lifts his head to gaze at you once more. You nod furiously, swallowing. "Okay. I'll help you finish." He stares at you for a moment, undying loyalty and love clear on his face, and then changes his position. </p><p>You whine softly as Basil removes his thigh from your crotch, but then <em>moan</em> as you feel something warm and wet envelop your left nipple. For one brief moment, you think it must be your own blood, but—it's Basil, sucking eagerly. His eyes are closed and eyebrows knitted, blush covering his cheeks, as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive chest, nibbling occasionally. </p><p>Blood from the gaping wound within you smears against his cheek. His left hand holds onto your right hip, but instead of traveling upwards to toy with your neglected nipple, it reaches <em>inwards</em>, tangling inside your intestines. You writhe, panting, dangerously close. Basil is so much inside you. Basil is everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever feared. It feels so good, it hurts so much, it's so intense and you feel like everything in your life has lead up to this moment. </p><p>And, finally, his right hand presses against your crotch and rubs you insistently through your pants. Your head slams against the wood floor as you cry out, humping wildly against his hand—</p><p> </p><p>You wake up mid-orgasm, Basil's name on your lips. You're sticky and sweaty all over, so much so that you're convinced, for a moment, that you're still covered in blood. (That does nothing to quell your arousal as the afterglow of coming hums through your legs.) After the foggy pleasure of your release starts to fade, you sit up and pat down your chest. No injuries. No scars. </p><p>Your right eye is still gone. Funny how your mind always erases that part of the encounter. </p><p>Maybe someday you'll have to face that in your dreams for real. </p><p>For now, you slide your legs off the side of your bed—Mari's old bed—and reach over to grab the wireless phone. You dial seven digits that you memorized years ago, but have only started using again recently. </p><p>Basil picks up. He always does, even though it's two in the morning. "Hello?" he answers groggily. </p><p>"Hi." You lie back down in bed, curling on your side. It's starting to get slimy and cold between your thighs. You'll deal with it in a moment. </p><p>On the other end of the line, a hundred miles away, Basil groans. "Mmm. Sunny. You okay?" </p><p>You pull a pillow close to your chest. "I miss you. I just had a dream... and you were in it." </p><p>Basil snorts in tired bemusement. "I hope it was a nice dream." </p><p>"... Kinda." </p><p>There's a short pause. "I miss you, too." His voice goes soft. "I miss you..." </p><p>"I don't want to leave you again." </p><p>"Hmm." You can hear rustling as Basil turns over in bed. "That came out of nowhere. You sure you're okay?" </p><p>"Yeah." You think for a second, taking inventory of your body. Your chest aches, but it's only of longing. "I just wanted you to know that you're not alone. It's important to me that you know." </p><p>Basil laughs. "Okay, okay. I had no idea you were such a romantic, Sunny!" He exhales, and you can practically hear his smile. "I'm here, too." If you close your eyes, you can almost feel his warmth again. It's been too long since you took a nap together, but you can remember it well enough if you try. Distance separates you, at least until Christmas vacation, but you've got this. It's enough for now. "Let's go to bed, okay? We can talk about this more in the morning." </p><p>You shift, awkwardly trying to kick out of your pajama pants and underwear. "Okay. ... Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?" </p><p>His voice warms. "Of course. I'd love to." </p><p>The soft, gentle breathing on the other end of the line—of the real Basil, not just a ghost that your mind has conjured—calms your rapidly beating heart and makes your eyelids heavy. You nuzzle into the pillow in front of you, imagining that it's Basil's cheek, and finally drift off into a peaceful sleep without dreams. </p><p>Being with Basil is complicated sometimes, and not always easy, but every moment you actually spend with him makes it all worth it.</p>
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